Passing Valor
by shadowsythe22
Summary: gruesome tales of an army ranger named Hot Shot. This is the tale of the war through his eyes. every death, every kill, all the gruesome details and horrors of war. on his road to becoming a war hero he will face many tragedies and have to make many sacrifices. will he make it out alive and claim glory? (rated M for Language, Blood/Gore, And Sexual Innuendo).


War… a simple act of mass murder passed off as a heroic deed, a fight for freedom and peace. If there was ever any peace, then there would be no war. But there can never be any peace. everything moves too fast, and things are always changing, but the more things change, the more they stay the same. The world might climb its way into the future, but we will always find a reason to fight, it's only natural. I can't blame myself for getting wrapped up in all of it; I was just as foolish as every other stallion and filly, going off to the battlefield with false visions of glory prancing around in our heads.

I thought I would go in, kill a few bad guys and get out unscathed. Maybe go back home and get celebrated; heck, I might even get a medal. That's everypony's dream, right? To get a sizable shiny medal at the end and get celebrated as a war hero. God was I wrong… so wrong. If I could go back, I would. I would go all the way back and keep myself from running head first into this mess. keeping my head in the clouds would be a dream. one that i would like to have more than anything but, at this time, that would just get me killed in a second.

The first day of training was when it all went wrong. I was just a young colt ready to go kill a few bad guys and get a medal… like everypony else. My name is Hot Shot; I was 25 years old, at that time. I had a light brown coat, and short, dark blue hair with a long and unkempt tail. My eyes were emerald green, and I was about average height. I was nothing special, like a unicorn or pegasus, but what I lack in wings and magic I make up for in strength and determination. The memories from that time feel like they were just yesterday. Sometimes i wish they were.

The two other ponies next to me shared the same look I did. An attentive and disciplined look with focus and determination. Hell, that was the same look everypony in the room was wearing, but we all had a feeling of excitement in our faces. It was foolish excitement, of course. How could we think that going to war could possibly be a great and exciting thing? However, we just stood there at attention as the drill sergeant trotted back and forth, barking out all kinds of things.

"Alright you maggots!" He roared at the top of his voice, going back and forth looking every single one of us in the eyes slowly. When he passed by me and looked me in the eyes, and I could see the horrors of war in them, but that wasn't clear enough to get me to back out. "For the next two years you will suffer. If you get hurt… I expect you to suck it up, and quit you're bitching. If you blind yourself, I will expect you to still have perfect aim. If you break your hind legs, then you'll be doing push-ups in a wheelchair. Do I make myself clear?!"

"SIR YES SIR!" We all shouted out, and stood in an even tighter formation than before. The commanding officer was a rugged and battle worn pony by the name of Lieutenant Grey Mane. His name lived up to his appearance and somehow his attitude. He was an older colt with grey hair and dark brown fur covered with scars. He had an eye patch over his right eye, and the other eye was a deep brown. Though he was grey and damaged, he was very fit for a pony of his age and looked like he could literally carry and entire team over his back.

We all stood there as he barked out orders and told us what he had planned for us today. He said that today was 'the calm before the storm,' and that tomorrow he'll let the fires of hell rain down upon us "pathetic maggots".When he finally finished his speech, he ordered us to report to our division officers. Each one of us was enlisted to a different division in the army. There were rangers, fighters, mages, and aerial support teams. Fighters and rangers were the lowest of them all, which is where I was placed. On the next step of the food chain were the aerial support teams, and at the top were the mages. They were held up the highest for their use of devastating magic and powerful spells. Mages were truly a terror to behold, and especially at the wrong end of the line.

I was enlisted as a class B ranger. That entitles me to use not just a bow to support the fighters from behind, but I will also get a sword and shield to use if they should require more ponies on the front line. When he broke us all up, we headed to each individual officer and stood firmly at attention. In my whole group, there were only four. Two other colts one older than me, one younger and a mare roughly my age, all earth ponies.

"SO…" said our officer using only one word to grab our immediate attention and instill his authority. "You think that you can aim an arrow and fire a bow… I bet you maggots couldn't hit the broad side of a barn… well, can you?" He asked.

"SIR NO SIR!" The four of us replied in unison.

"I didn't think so…" he said sticking his face into each of ours and giving us all a sinister glare. Just like lieutenant grey mane, his light blue eyes also seemed to flash in visions of all the horrors of war, but they seemed to pass me by rather quickly and without any real thought. He had an orange coat and light green hair with a skinny figure, but there was an air about him that demanded respect. It was obvious that he had no trouble receiving that respect. He remained silent as he took slow strides and examined the four of us. I hadn't mentioned before, but my cutie mark was a bow with a flaming arrow, which was pulled back on the string and rested on the limbs.

I didn't join the army and become a ranger just because I thought it was cool. I was actually an exceptional shot… it was my freaking talent. As a foal I loved listening to tales of Robin Hoof and his band of merry stallions. It was my favorite tale, and I soon became ecstatic with the thrill of firing a bow. Sure enough, my parents let me join a junior bow and arrow club, which I was actually remarkably good at. I grew up with my own bow and set of arrows. As a matter of fact, my parents said I had to pay to refill my quiver if it ever ran empty or I lost the arrows, so I always tried to salvage my ammo.

"Well I'll be damned," Said the sergeant who was startlingly close to me. I didn't dare turn my head, so I shifted my eyes over to see that he was eying my cutie mark. "Well aren't you something… a freaking natural, huh son," he remarked, walking over and looking me right in the face. "So, do you think that you're a natural born shot?" He asked with a devious expression spread across his face.

"Sir, no sir," I shouted while staring straight forward to keep our eyes from connecting. It was mostly out of respect, but somewhere in my head I couldn't bare to look at the horrid and gruesome memories of war floating around in his eyes.

"Well, it's your special talent, isn't it?" He remarked with a sarcastically inquisitive voice.

"Sir, yes sir," I replied, knowing he was working me into a trap to make a fool out of me. So far, it was working.

"So, doesn't that mean you ARE a natural born shot?" He bellowed, growing ever closer to my face.

"Sir… yes sir," I replied hesitantly. I knew that I finally stepped in his trap.

"That means you lied to me," he he pointed out, getting even closer to my face. "200 push-up's," he ordered. "Right now!" He pointed at the mare, who was taken slightly off guard by the request. She ,however, managed to stand at attention and obeyed regardless. "You keep watch. The rest of you maggots report to the barracks… you'll need the sleep for tomorrow. DISMISSED!" He shouted. We all saluted towards him as he turned, and left for the door that lead to the officer's bunker. The others went to the barracks. I, however, went to the ground and started working on my two hundred push-ups. They told me that the army was tough, but I didn't see this one coming.

Only the mare and I were left in the gathering hall. She sat down on one of the crates nearby and just looked off into the distance. Her mane was made out of a combination of red, orange, and purple. She also had a butterscotch yellow coat. Her cutie mark was a sun hidden behind two dark blue clouds. It seemed like she rolled her deep blue eyes as I did my push-ups. Looking over to me, she quickly darted away and crossed her front hooves. After this, she let out a deep sigh. Thirty, or so, pushups later, I could feel my knees getting weak and tired. I started taking deep, quick breaths as I started to push past forty, but once I got passed fifty I had to stop and let my hooves rest. I sat up, and held my hooves. They were starting to ache and throb, but rubbing them seemed to help the muscles relax. Not long after, did the aching finally begin to fade.

"Can you hurry up…? I'd like to get to bed, you know," the mare remarked with annoyance. I was kind of taken aback to how rudely and abruptly she said that. It had only taken me like a few minutes to push out a fourth of my 'punishment', I should call it. She crossed her front hooves and rolled her eyes. I just looked at her with an inquisitive expression.

"At least, you don't have to do 200 push-ups," I replied in an equally abrupt tone for the sake of mocking her.

"Yeah, alright fine… I'm sorry; it's just been a rough day," she mumbled, tapping her hoof on the ground. It seemed, she was a bit edgy like she desperately needed to be somewhere. I went back down to the ground and started pumping out some more push-ups.

"What's your name anyway?" I asked, looking over to her.

"Huh?" She uttered like I had just snapped her out of a deep trance.

"Your name," I restated.

"Oh… my name is Dawn," she replied. It seemed like she took a greater interest in me, now that I've also taken some interest in her.

"It's nice to meet you, Dawn," I told her. "My name's Hot Shot." As I said this, she smiled, relaxed a little bit and also looked less edgy than before.

"So… Hot Shot," she began with a smile. "Where are you from?" She asked me flashing a smile as she spoke. Her teeth glistened white and seemed to brighten up the whole room. All I could do was to smile back and just keep doing push-ups. After doing so many already, the rhythm set in and it almost became automatic to me.

"I'm just from Colton," I simply stated. "A small town outside of Fillydelphia. What about you?"

"Well…" she said smiling and stood up. "I'm a big city mare, all the way from Canterlot." I got distracted by her, walking around the room. Stopping my push-ups, I sat back down to rest my hooves again. They were throbbing and aching worse than before, and I could tell that this wasn't going to be an easy thing to just walk this off.

"Canterlot, no shit?" I asked in great surprise. Usually, ponies from Canterlot are far too 'sophisticated' to bother with such menial things as war, or even manual labor for that fact. "Do you get to see the princess a lot?" The immediate answer to my question was a cute giggle, which made me chuckle silently too.

"I get that question more often than I actually see the princess," she remarked with a cunning attitude. There was also a sarcastic undertone present. "No, just because I live in Canterlot doesn't mean I always get to see the princess. It's not like she goes for a morning stroll every day after she raises the sun… I only see her during special occasions, like the summer sun celebration." I just grinned at her and went back to doing push-ups.

"Wish I could say the same…" I commented. "I don't think I've ever really seen the princess. I mean in reality. The only times I saw them, were through photos in the paper or statues. Maybe also in some paintings. The quiet, small town life gets pretty boring every now and then, you know." She stayed silent, and I grew quiet too as I continued to slowly pump out a few more push-ups. My joints were pretty sore now, and I wasn't even past 160.

"I think that's two hundred push-ups," she remarked with an amused voice that was accompanied by a smile. I pushed up off the ground one more time and fell back into a sitting position. After some short seconds of rest, I stood up. My front hooves were aching like hell. I didn't really do two-hundred push-ups, but it didn't matter. Our captain will never know, and I will, most likely, also need my strength for tomorrow. Dawn turned around to head towards the barracks, but I stayed back and rolled my hooves around, so they don't give out on me and let me fall on my face. "Well are you coming?" She asked smiling, as she turned and looked back at me.

"Don't worry. I'm coming." Those were the last words I muttered before we both walked into the barracks and laid down in our individual beds for a good night of rest. I could never fathom the weight those words would carry all these years later. They used to ring out with the sound of hope and happiness. Now, they only echo with sorrow and the screams of pain that haunt me every night.

-Authors Note: hey hey hey guys. this is a new story that me and my editor **warmaisach** are working on. i'm going to be working on this as well as my other stories, i dont plan on making updates for this story quite so frequent as most of my readers are used to and it's just a short story i decided to write. Dont be freaked out by the names you heard in this story. Hot Shot, and Dawn are used in this story but it is not related to my other stories in any way, i just used them because they seemed fitting. so i hope you like it, comment and PM me, and who knows, maybe i'll do more things like this in the future. all you bro's out there stay safe, stay sober, and stay shady.-End of Note-


End file.
